Sleep: It Is but a Dream
by Immortal x Snow
Summary: Exhausted after a long day, Battler wants nothing more than sleep; however, he is faced with both insomnia and the plans of a certain witch... Beatrice x Battler. Oneshot.


**See, I said I would write more! XD Funny thing is, I started writing this one night when I couldn't sleep. I don't like it at all, though.**

* * *

His head aches. Throbs, to be precise.

Another long, arduous day has slipped by, and more blood has been shed in the most recent murders.

And Ushiromiya Battler desires nothing more than sleep. But even that which is the simplest, sweetest, and most serene of pleasures has been snatched out of his grasp by a firm, rough hand.

Tossing and turning restlessly, he scowls at his all-too-awake limbs, which are moving and twitching despite his corporeal and mental fatigue. Even when his eyelids droop and sag, he is tortured by an inner demon that prevents him from drifting into slumber. Shaking from pure exhaustion, he rolls onto his stomach, but finds that he cannot breathe with his face smothered by the pillow; he shifts to his left and then right sides, but feels no comfort or blessing of inner tranquility; growing all the more impatient and irate, he attempts to lie on his back, only to sit up rigidly straight at the sight of none other than Beatrice.

"Beato, what...?" Battler asks, voice being weighed down by the drug of the evasive sleep he thirsts for.

"Can't sleep, huh?" She grins, her eyes mischievously menacing, as she bends over his bed tauntingly.

"And why should that make any difference to you?" He rubs one of his sore, bloodshot eyes with the back of his hand.

"No reason in particular." Her amused tone contradicts her words.

"So why are you here? And what exactly do you think you're going to do if I can't sleep?"

Seeing Beatrice's face, Battler begins to regret his inquiries.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing really." Once more her voice is the opposite of her words.

Still refusing to trust her, Battler rolls over to face the wall and throws the blankets over his head.

"Hey, Battler?" Putting her hands on her hips, Beatrice bends over and sneers at the lump in the bed.

"What?" He sighs in response.

"What is two plus two?"

Poking his head out from under the burrow he has formed, Battler stares at Beatrice with a mixture of emotions, ranging from annoyance to incredulousness.

"Why are you asking me that?" He asks, speech slightly slurred.

"Just answer the question."

"Four, obviously. What dumbass wouldn't know that?"

"I wouldn't have expected _you_ to know, but yes, four. The number of hours you've been tossing and turning in here."

Rolling his eyes, Battler retreats back underneath the covers, and Beatrice sits down in a nearby chair.

A few moments pass before the witch speaks again.

"Hey, Battler?" She asks, swinging her legs like a child.

Battler groans and rolls over angrily.

"What is it now?" He queries, lifting his head from the pillow.

"What two colors make purple?"

Glaring, Battler sighs in exasperation.

"Why should it matter to you, and why should I even bother answering? I don't have to tell you, you know."

"So you're saying that you don't know? I would think that someone like _you_ should know how to make purple, idiot."

Beatrice smirks when she sees Battler's countenance swiftly become more irritated.

"Of course I know! If you're the one asking, then doesn't it mean that you don't know yourself?"

He grins at his victory.

"I know, too." Beatrice crosses her arms. "Blue and red, of course. The red truth mixed into your blue theories."

"Thank you for keeping me from having to answer your question." Battler smiles triumphantly before returning to hibernation.

Frustrated that Battler has successfully evaded her tactic, Beatrice is silent again.

_It's just one thing that he managed to get out of, _she decides, _But I'll win. It shouldn't take much more than this. _

After pondering what to ask next, Beatrice believes that perhaps, she has finally chosen the best question yet.

"Hey, Battler~."

Seconds pass. No response.

"Heeey, Battler~."

Still no response.

_Uh uh. There's no way you're getting out of this one, too. I won't allow it!_

Jumping out of her chair, Beatrice rushes up to Battler's bed and begins shaking him roughly.

"Battler! How many fingers am I holding up?"

Still receiving no reaction, Beatrice tries to tug the blankets off Battler, but he grabs them and pulls back, starting a tug-of-war. Growling, Beatrice pulls harder, only to fall over backward and crash onto the floor when Battler suddenly lets go of the blankets.

"What was that for, dammit?" She demands, proceeding to roughly shove Battler hard enough to nearly knock him out of bed.

"What the hell do you _think _it was for, idiot?!" Furious, Battler emerges from the cavern he has fashioned. "I couldn't get to sleep before, but with you asking absolutely absurd questions like you have been is only making it worse!"

Beatrice pauses to ponder this. Perhaps, indeed, she is only making things worse - but that's all part of her plan.

"So..." She holds up her left hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Battler sighs, irritated all the more, and replies, knowing that he is relinquishing any possibility of getting sleep this night, "Three."

"Yes, that's correct - three more hours until dawn."

"Thanks to you, now I'm not going to get any sleep at all," Battler growls, falling back onto the pillow and staring at the ceiling.

_Now I can make my move, _Beatrice smiles both physically and mentally.

"Hey, Battler -"

"What is it _now_?" He cuts the witch off.

She walks over to his bed, her grin still on her face, before asking, "Would it help if you slept with me?"

Battler stiffens and sits up suddenly.

"_What_?!"

"Move over," Beatrice commands, crawling into Battler's bed.

"What are you trying to do?!" He blushes as Beatrice grabs his arm and plasters her body to his.

"Help you sleep, dumbass."

"That's not going to help at all!" He protests awkwardly.

"Of course it will. Just stop whining."

She lays her head on his chest, pulling one of his arms around her waist, and he reluctantly pulls her closer; however, his initial embarrassment is changed to a strange sort of peace as he feels the warmth of Beatrice's body; the slow, regular, rhythmic breaths she takes; and her soft skin and dress.

And he finds himself slowly drifting off into slumber along with the witch, until he is completely overtaken and falls asleep with Beatrice in his arms.

Shortly after the two fall into dreams each other other, Ronove comes and covers them with a blanket - somehow, Beatrice has managed to kick the others off in her sleep.

* * *

**As I said, I really don't like this. At all. But oh well - I tried.  
**


End file.
